Emotionless
by heathersjeans
Summary: Gaara of the Desert is the hunter, revenge is the prey. Oneshot, slightly disturbing


**A/N: **Okay, I have no idea where this one came from - though I think some parts of it were inspired by Bad Habit, by the Dresden Dolls. Go check the song out, it's good.

**Title: **Emotionless

**Warnings: **Angst, mentions of killing

**Spoilers: **Chuunin Exam arc

**Rated: **T

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Naruto (or the Dresden Dolls or any related works), nor am I making any money by publishing this fanfic.

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Life. It is a fragile thing.

Perhaps the best way to describe it was to compare it to a butterfly. It can be small and weak, and yet perhaps it is its weakness that made it so beautiful. It begins young and defenceless, totally dependant, and it grows and flourishes and developes into something just a little stronger. Like a butterfly, it has sporadic moments of flight and happiness, and it is, to some at least, a beautiful thing. Like a butterfly, life is a struggle to survive; and also like a butterfly, it is just as easy to crush.

Similar thoughts, while not quite as eloquent as these, passes through the mind of the hunter. He walks, strong and silent, through the dark and empty streets, choosing to bypass the centre of the village. Little clouds of the dry, dry dust rises with every noiseless step. He continues, following his senses, beyond the outskirts of the urban sprawl and towards the high walls that encircle the village. He jumps it easily and fluidly - a practiced motion - landing gracefully in the desert sand beyond. It is warm, even in the cool night air.

Here, away from the hustle and bustle of the village, the night is quiet and the sky is clear. The night sky shines with fifteen hundred stars, each beautiful and glinting with an unearthly light. The moon is a peculiar orange-red colour, and it lies low over the horizon far to the south. A small breeze blows, and the ever-moving sand of the desert here stirs around his feet. In what looks to be a rare display of relaxation, the hunter tips his head back slowly, and exhales. Dark-ringed eyes flutter closed.

If Gaara of the Desert could feel human emotion, he would feel it now. Here, in the humbling tranquility of the desert. Perhaps, if he could, he would feel small and insignificant under the gaze of fifteen hundred ancient stars. He may feel alone, but not lonely. He might feel happiness, anger, relief, sorrow, anguish, isolation.

Pain.

If Gaara could, he may feel so isolated in the world. He may feel forsaken by his father, and betrayed by his uncle. He may feel anguish when his own siblings fear to look him in the eye, or oppose him in any way. He may flinch with loathing when the villagers of Suna look at him with terror, and hide their children behind warning whispers and long, flowing skirts. He may feel horror, disgust and self-loathing whenever he saw himself in the mirror. He may feel true emotions, powerful emotions, the emotions that shake the world's foundations and cause the strongest of warriors to fall upon their knees.

The breeze blows again, pushing the firey red hair away, revealing the Ai tattoo that adornes Gaara's brow.

The breeze blows, and bringing with it was a scent so beautiful and alluring that Subaku no Gaara's eyes fly open and he inhales, sharply and deeply. It is the scent only a hunter such as Gaara of the Desert's calibre could pick up and identify: it is the scent of human blood.

Even here, on the periphery of the world, he can detect it. It's not far - only pumping, hot and fast, in the body of a Jounin guard posted on the outer wall of Suna. It's as red as sin and fast as lightning and hot - so, so hot. Gaara inhales again, and the scent only drives his own blood around his body faster - it's blood he's never seen, that no one has ever drawn from his sand-encased body. It moves so fast, and all of it - or so it seems to Gaara - goes straight to his crotch. Gaara gives his twisted, sardonic version of a smile.

The hunter has chosen his prey.

He stands in the sand a little longer, relishing the thought of what will come to pass. His sadistic smirk widens, and he revels in the cool anticipation that preceeds his killings. It is the closest that Gaara is to the emotions he had forced away so long ago. He fantasizes for a moment, he dreams of the thrill that is to come. It is a thrill. He can still experience it, even now after the killing of so many. He can play Kami, instill fear and terror and even awe in the frightened, wide eyes of his victims... hell, he fucking _was_ Kami. Who lives, who dies, how many, how long, how painful... all of it is his to decide.

Once he started, so very long ago, when he was six, it was so difficult to stop. He knows, probably, that it is wrong, and destructive. Yet it sustains him like food and drink and fuck, even _drugs, _never could. He relishes in the revolting thought that, even if he wanted to, he couldn't stop. And when he felt the blood soaking into his sand, and the horrific screams of those unlucky enough to fall into his path, he smiles at the thought that this is what he was born for. To decide the very fates of those who made him suffer.

He gasps quietly; the thoughts of the killing kind is driving his erection to the point of painful - he must complete the killing quickly. He is so close, so very _fucking _close.

He moves, away from the open, everlasting sky and the slight, disquieting emptiness that is in the place of the emotions he can not yet feel. He moves again, but despite the pull of the kill, and the straining erection in his pants, something stops him. He feels.... different. That something that had once existed is gone. He tries to forget it, to push it out of his mind, and eventually is successful. He moves off back towards the wall, and his mind flicks to the hunt, the quarry, and the kill.

Though he doesn't know it, this is one of the last hunts Gaara will carry out. For the Chuunin Exams were to take place next week, in Konoha. There, he will meet a certain Naruto Uzumaki, a boy who is special - a Jinchuuriki like himself. This Naruto will inspire him by fighting against him, for defending the one he will cripple, and for fighting for his friends. The Jinchuuriki Naruto, the fox-boy, will awaken the emotions that Gaara subconsciously tries to bury. He will change Gaara forever - and for the better. He will show Gaara what it means to have a country, a village, two siblings - and to be Kazekage.

But for the moment, Gaara heads off the oblivious Jounin, who, despite his superiority in rank and experience, will fall tonight at the hands of the hunter. Tonight, Gaara will feel the rush of the kill, and the ecstacy it will bring him, both to his killing mind and his pants. Because Subaku no Gaara has not yet competed in the Chuunin Exams, he has not yet crippled Rock Lee in the preliminaries, he has not yet met the Naruto Uzumaki who will change him, and teach him to love.

For the future is not set in stone, even for the hunter - the notorious Gaara of the Desert.


End file.
